


The Golic Language Manual: The Quick and Dirty Guide

by pamdizzle



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Anal, First Time, Get Together, KS Sweethearts, M/M, PWP, Rimming, fun with the Vulcan language, slightly tos slanted imo though, written to work for either universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-14
Updated: 2014-02-14
Packaged: 2018-01-12 09:31:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1184639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pamdizzle/pseuds/pamdizzle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is my contribution to the K/S Sweethearts challenge on LJ/Tumblr. The prompt was given to me by T'Lara. She asked me to write a Valentine's story around Jim confessing his love to Spock in Golic. The problem is, Jim is getting is a Golic crash course from a less than reputable source and winds up saying all manner of ridiculous phrases rather than anything remotely romantic.</p><p>Porn with a dash of silly.</p><p>To me this reads as mostly TOS, but I wrote it with the intent that it could go either way, and so have tagged it accordingly. ;)</p><p> </p><p>Happy Valentine's Day, everyone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Golic Language Manual: The Quick and Dirty Guide

**Author's Note:**

  * For [larissabernstein](https://archiveofourown.org/users/larissabernstein/gifts), [Wingstar102](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wingstar102/gifts).



 

                “Here goes nothing,” Jim said to himself, his own eyes disbelieving as they stared back at him from the mirror in his private bath. He grimaced slightly before turning away from his reflection, thinking that maybe Risa wasn’t the best place to—

                _No._ He’d never been one to waffle on important decisions and he wasn’t going to start now. He had planned this night meticulously, practiced the words he would say in front of a holo every day for the past month and a half and today was The Day. They were on Risa, and Uhura’s carefully planned Valentine’s Day celebration was the perfect event for this particular declaration. Jim had made absolutely certain that, despite the sometimes contextual ambiguities of certain Golic phrases, _this time_ there would be no other possible interpretation of his chosen words.

                Twice now, Jim had tried to approach Spock with his confession in an attempt to open a dialogue, and twice his words had been brushed aside. His last attempt had nearly been his undoing. They’d been sharing dinner in the Captain’s quarters and Jim had proposed, point blank, that they take their friendship to its next most logical destination. He wanted them to be lovers, to bond in the way of Spock’s people, and so Jim had said, clearly and concisely in Golic, “Nam-tor abertau-hali bai-sov-ne’hish-an’kar t’nash-veh aluklar-bosh oluhk-kahk.”

                It had taken him weeks to construct that proposal in the ancient Vulcan language. McCoy, having known of Jim’s infatuation, had tracked down one of the only rare copies of a complete guide to Golic and given it to Jim on his last birthday. “If you can’t teach the bird to bark, you gotta teach the dog how to whistle,” the doctor had said.

                Jim had been nervous about learning the language at first, all too aware of its complexity, but he was desperate. Human subtleties—flirting, touching, innuendo—had all been lost on the Vulcan. Even plain Standard propositions had been misinterpreted as illogical human observation, or worse, jesting! In the end, he’d dedicated the entirety of his off-duty hours to learning the language, and all Spock had been able to say in response to his efforts was: “Indeed. That must be…problematic. Perhaps there will be a specialist on Risa who can assist you—”

                He’d been immediately angered at Spock’s callous reply. “Damn right it’s problematic. More problematic that it’s worth, apparently!”      

                “My apologies, Captain,” Spock had replied, confused. He had looked truly baffled, his expression one of pure innocent concern.

                “No need, Mister Spock,” Jim had reassured, his anger deflating with a sigh. Maybe he’d said it wrong? No, he’d checked and checked again but…How could he be sure without risking embarrassing himself further? They’d finished their dinner in companionable silence, and then played a game of chess, which Jim was pretty sure the Vulcan had deliberately thrown. Whatever the case, Jim was determined to get it right this time.

                _No more dithering_ , he chided himself now, resolute. He’d make his desires known, and this time, the meaning would be absolutely crystal. Spock would have to give Jim an answer and, no matter what, the air between them would finally be cleared—once and for all. No more second guessing, no more analyzing everything the Vulcan said, no more pining from the center seat. If Spock said yes, Jim could stop loving the Vulcan from a distance. If he said no, well, Jim wasn’t one to thrive on the unknown. He’d much rather not be left wondering. Even if it wasn’t the answer he wanted to hear, he could eventually move on, rather than hoping from afar. _Wouldn’t be easy though…_

                Jim straightened his shoulders, and gave his reflection one last appraisal. _Nothing worth attaining ever was._

\--

                Spock had made a grievous error. An immeasurable miscalculation. Simply, he had been wrong. Wrong from the very start of the Captain’s egregious attempts at learning ancient Vulcan, in fact. What he had assumed to be a passing interest in the language had apparently, in actuality, been a very real and persistent interest in Spock himself. That he had not seen, and yet…how _could_ he have seen? For all that Humans were emotional beings, so much of their true motives were veiled in all manner of guise.

                Spock had grown accustomed to serving aboard a ship full of humans and having his space invaded by their customs. So, when Jim had befriended him, Spock had been unsurprised by the narrowing area of his own personal space where the Captain was concerned. Kirk was a tactile being, his hands as much a tool for communication as his speech, and Spock had thought nothing of it.

Spock grimaced as his flawless memory recalled the Captain’s spoken words as well. Every word, every phrase, uttered to Spock with such sincerity. Yes, it was sincerity, he now realized. Too often humans communicated via innuendo and almost every day Spock’s ears were party to such banter among the crew. So often, in fact, he rarely paid it attention any longer. He had not realized that he’d been so desensitized to such language that he had failed to discern innuendo from sincerity.

The logic of it was evident now, of course, in retrospect. Difficult as it was to admit, even only to himself, Spock had been rather ‘dim-witted’ as of late. Now...now he may have wrought irreparable damage upon his closest friendship. Would Jim still be willing to utter such words after this evening? He had no doubt that his friend would forgive his ignorance, but would he be willing to trust Spock? A Vulcan who could not even understand plainly spoken Standard, let alone complex emotion?

Spock fought not to ball his hands into fists as he watched Jim’s retreating back, the slightly slumped angle of his shoulders, as he bid his final farewells to Lieutenant Uhura and exited the celebrations. Spock’s own feelings of smallness were echoed in the Captain’s posture, because this was his doing. Jim’s unhappiness, his defeat—Spock’s folly.

“Y’know, Spock,” the doctor’s voice was uncomfortably close to the Vulcan’s pointed ear as he spoke, “where I come from, this would be the point where you went after him.”

“Doctor McCoy, while I appreciate your input—”

“Spock,” McCoy interrupted, “while I appreciate your appreciation, if you don’t get your ass in gear, I’ll schedule your annual physical tomorrow and every two weeks thereafter.”

“That would be against your oath as a Starfleet—”

“You’ve been looking peckish all week, Spock. Why, I haven’t seen you so pale since our last trip to Vulcan. Are you sure that cycle of yours is every seven years, because you _do_ have a unique biology…”

                Spock did not hear the rest of the doctor’s words as he stiffly followed the path their Captain had just taken. This would not be a comfortable conversation, but Spock would not lose this opportunity. Jim’s proposition had been…unorthodox but if, in fact, Jim truly wished him to drop his trousers, then Spock would do exactly that.

\--

                _‘That would be highly inappropriate, Captain.’_ Spock’s rebuke echoed over and over through Jim’s mind as he tried to calm himself down. He wanted badly to throw something—namely himself—out of an airlock. He thumbed through his Golic language manual and reconstructed the phrase he’d spoken that evening.

                ‘Ne’uh ne’malanu t’du, Osu Spohkh,’ he muttered quietly beneath his breath, ‘Ri kup-bek-tor nash-veh abi’khi-gad-yem!’ It translated roughly to Standard, according to his guide, as: “Take me unto you, Mister Spock. It is time I told you how I cherish thee.”

                And Spock had called it ‘inappropriate’ no, worse, ‘ _highly_ inappropriate.’ Granted, Jim could see how it might come off as a bit…intimate, but it was Valentine’s Day, they were on Risa and that was kind of the whole damned point, wasn’t it? Spock was no prude, Jim knew that for a fact. So, what was so inappropriate to Spock—Jim’s approach, or Jim himself? It was maddening. For all his Vulcan stoicism, Spock had shown to Jim an ability for great kindness and compassion, so where was it this evening?

Jim had been so confident that the Vulcan would accept his proposal. Was it just his ego that was making Spock’s rejection so unfathomable? All those late nights in his cabin, those ‘almost’ moments, the smiles Spock gave him and no one else—was it all just a figment of his imagination? It couldn’t be! At the same time, there was no way to reconcile Spock’s cold rebuke with the person he thought he knew so well. Was his friend really so cold toward Jim’s affection that he couldn’t spare even an ounce of his compassion to _kindly_ reject him?

And how old was _Jim_ , twelve? Sulking in his room because his Valentine refused to be his. Jim snorted in self-disgust.

“Jim?” Spock’s muffled voice, on the other side of the door to his guest quarters, shocked Jim’s system into overdrive.

He pinched the bridge of his nose and swallowed the angry words bubbling at the back of his tongue. ‘Fuck off,’ he thought to himself. “Yes, Mister Spock?” he calmly replied aloud, warily approaching the locked door.

“May I please come in?” he asked. “There is a matter between us which I believe requires clarification.”

Jim grimaced, picturing the transfer request with Spock’s signature on it. With a heavy sigh, Jim unlocked the antique door, and pulled it partly ajar. “This can’t wait until we return to the ship in the morning?”

“This is not ship’s business, Jim,” Spock replied, his expression grave and eyes seeking.

Jim smiled tightly and pulled the door open, allowing Spock to enter before shutting it quietly behind the Vulcan. He eyed Spock’s stiff posture from behind for a moment, gritting his teeth in frustration with himself when the now familiar urge to reach out and touch asserted itself. That was exactly the line of thinking that had led to his earlier humiliation.

“What can I do for you, Mister Spock?” Jim asked, forcing a pleasant tone. He hoped it didn’t sound as strained to the Vulcan’s ears as it did to his own.

“I am here to amend my earlier response,” Spock stated.

“Earlier response…” All words halted and Jim stared in shock, his mouth agape, as Spock kicked off his dress shoes, pushed his trousers all the way down to the floor and stepped out of them in sharp, quick succession.

The silence went on for several unthinkable moments before Spock tilted his head and asked, “Did I misunderstand? Is this not what you wish of me?” Jim wasn’t sure how to answer that. Yes, he wanted. He wanted, wanted and wanted some more, but that wasn’t _all_ he wanted. Surely, Jim’s words had articulated clearly that it was much more than…well, _this._ Sex was welcome, of course it was, but Jim was offering to be what T’Pring had refused. He didn’t understand—

Jim’s stomach knotted and his heart wrung painfully as doubt, unease and, finally, shame settled itself behind Spock’s emotive brown eyes. The Vulcan bent forward to retrieve his pants from the floor. Jim’s feet reacted faster than his mouth, as he surged forward to seize the Vulcan by his shoulders. He had no idea what he’d said to make Spock think he had to come in here and drop his pants, but he damn sure wasn’t going to let the Vulcan walk out of there thinking he wasn’t wanted.

Spock unbent and stared down at him, questioningly, and Jim slid his hand up the Vulcan’s shoulders to the back of his neck where he stroked his thumbs softly behind pointed ears. “You didn’t misunderstand,” Jim finally managed.

“Your initial reaction would suggest otherwise,” Spock replied solemnly.

Jim shook his head, “I just…I don’t understand Vulcan ritual, I suppose.”

Spock arched a brow. “I was under the impression that this was _human_ ritual.”

“Entering someone’s room after you’ve rejected their confession of romantic interest and then dropping your pants in front of them, Mister Spock?” Jim chuckled softly. “An abridged version, maybe. But not _quite_ human tradition.”

Spock seemed contemplative for a moment, but then wound his arms around Jim’s waist and pulled him closer. “Jim,” he started, eyes dancing with amusement, “how, exactly, have you been learning Golic?”

Jim shrugged and allowed himself to be pushed toward the bed at the back of his guest room. “From a book. Does it matter now?”

“Perhaps,” Spock replied. “Sanu estuhl’uh pla’kruslar t’nash-veh.”

Jim smiled warmly. “That’s beautiful. What does it mean?”

Spock’s hands slid over Jim’s backside, gripping each mound firmly as he pushed their bodies together from the waist down. “Roughly, it means I want you to touch me.” He squeezed Jim’s ass again. “Like this.”

Jim closed his eyes and groaned, but it was not with the pleasure of finally feeling Spock against him. Rather, with great trepidation and remorse. “What the hell have I actually been saying to you?”

Spock’s mouth was upturned in the widest, shit-eating half-smile Jim had ever seen grace the Vulcan’s face. Then, he bent forward to ghost his lips over Jim’s, kissing him softly and slowly before pulling away. He raised his left hand in front of Jim’s face, his fingertips pressed lightly across his forehead. Jim’s skin began to tingle and he gasped as Spock slowly trailed them down—over his eyes, his nose, mouth, chin, neck and lower until they crept beneath the fold of his green tunic to rest over his rapidly beating heart.

He felt warm and sensitized all over, his cock painfully hard where it strained against the zip of his pants. Spock’s other hand, still resting over the swell of Jim’s backside, slid around to work Jim’s trousers open. He reached down to offer assistance, suddenly coming to life with renewed motivation. Jim took a step back and stripped off his pants and underwear, shucking his clothes until he was standing before Spock completely nude, watching the Vulcan do the same.

They came back together with wordless intent, and yet their hands were unhurried and their tongues unrushed, as they slowly explored new territory. Jim guided them down onto the bed, pulling Spock over him and arching up to meet the Vulcan’s warmth with his own. “Spock,” Jim managed to say between kisses. “Are you sure about this? I never planned…that is…we could take it slower—”

Spock reached between them and took Jim in hand. “To speak as plainly as I can,” Spock replied, “I have waited and wanted and foolishly believed that this would never be. Jim, to wait now…it would be even more illogical to me than you undertaking Golic in order to propose it in the first place. Unless you have objections of your own of which I am not aware.”

Jim chuckled at that and let himself relax into Spock’s caresses. “I’m…definitely okay with this.”

Spock hummed with his lips pressed to the pulse at Jim’s neck and the Captain let himself fall into the moment, pleasantly surprised by Spock’s skilled touch and unguarded demeanor. In more recent weeks, when he’d allowed himself to imagine it, he’d always envisioned Spock as willing but stiff, in need of guidance and gentle persuasion. In reality, the Vulcan was certainly gentle, but he was neither passive nor uptight. His hands owned Jim’s body with confident, steady strokes—up and down—they raked smoothly over his thighs and chest, his cock and testicles, until Jim was writhing and panting.

In contrast, Jim’s own hands were shaking and unsure in the face of Spock’s undivided focus. How long had he wished to be the center of the Commander’s attention, only to be awed by it the moment it was upon him? The heat of Spock’s breath moved ever lower as the Vulcan kissed and tasted a downward track over Jim’s stomach and abdomen. The softly haired sinew of Spock’s chest teased his aching cock with scant touches as he mapped Jim’s body with his mouth and hands.

By the time Spock buried his nose in the short, curly brown hair surrounding Jim’s organ and inhaled, Jim was vibrating with anticipation. Spock exhaled his pleasure with a low, rumbling growl as he began to mouth hungrily around the base of Jim’s cock. That mouth slipped lower, engulfing Jim’s sack in wet, sucking relief and he let his legs fall open, rolling his hips up toward the contact. His body begged for what it wanted and Spock didn’t disappoint.

Strong hands pushed up under Jim’s thighs and spread him open to further perusal. He should feel exposed—Jim never completely ceded control during sex—but this was Spock and he’d never been able to deny the Vulcan anything he wanted of Jim. He’d never felt a need to distance himself and certainly didn’t feel one now. Right now, all he wanted was closer. Closer and closer still. “Spock!” he nearly screamed at the first swipe of a tongue across his entrance. “Oh God!”

Spock’s eyes regarded him from between the open V of Jim’s thighs with the first sign of visible uncertainty, “Is it well, Jim?”

“Are you…” Jim panted, his heart hammering. “Well? _Well?!_ Don’t stop! Don’t…don’t st…”

A sudden dark, feral edge to Spock’s gaze stole the words from Jim’s tongue. Roughly, Spock pulled him down the bed, rolled Jim’s lets up to his shoulders, and dived forward with an _actual_ growl. Jim’s would have bucked, if the position he was in had in any way allowed for movement. As it was, all he could was shout and whimper as Spock sucked and licked at his hole. The persistent press of the Vulcan’s tongue prodded and receded until finally it breached and licked at him from the inside. Jim’s cock pulsed and ached, leaking a trail of pre-come across his stomach at Spock’s merciless onslaught.

It went on and on, Jim’s hands gripping fists of Spock’s hair as the Vulcan’s tongue and fingers worked in concert to stretch Jim wide and ready. “N-now! Ah!” Jim groaned, his head thrown back against the pillow. “Sp’ock!”

“Yes, Jim,” was his breathless answer as he finally pulled his mouth away and lowered Jim’s legs to the mattress. Spock was as disheveled as Jim had ever seen him—lips swollen and wet, hair askew and breathless—as he rose to his knees.

Spock’s penis was fully extended, and the folds from which it had emerged were wet and swollen. The sight of it, though not unexpected, was still breathtaking. He’d seen Spock naked over a dozen times, was well versed in Vulcan anatomy, but never had he actually seen _it_ in person. Jim licked his lips in anticipation and rolled up onto his knees, reaching out to take it in hand and gently stroke.

Spock leaned in to take his lips in a kiss that brokered no restraint. He began maneuvering Jim around, and the Captain once again found himself willfully submitting, equally astonished as he was aroused by Spock’s ability to lead. He’d not expected this—not in a million years—and he wondered, with a twinge of minute jealousy, who had been Spock’s teacher.

                Now obviously wasn’t the time for such thoughts, however. He barely had the presence of mind to snatch a pillow and wedge it beneath his abdomen, before Spock was laid over him. His organ slid wetly between the valley of Jim’s ass, and he moaned at the pressure it presented _just_ _there._

                “Jim…” Spock’s voice broke on the vowel, as he began to rut slowly against Jim’s back, his forehead hot where it rested between his shoulder blades.

                “Do it, Spock,” Jim ordered. “ _Please,_ ” he begged.

                Immediately, Spock shifted behind him, the blunt head of his cock nudging insistently until Jim’s hole gave over to sweet entry and the Vulcan began to push inside. “Oh, Jim, i'nam-tor wak na'guv-tvi-rivak!"

                “Ah! I have…no idea…what that means…”

                Spock thrust forward harshly, burying himself within Jim entirely. Their breaths sounded a ragged symphony against the walls of the room as they both adjusted. Spock rolled his hips slowly, letting Jim’s body relax around the girth of his cock. He felt Spock’s tongue lick the sweat from the back of his neck before he whispered, “Nem'uh nash!”

                “Fuuuuuccc-AH! Haah-ah! Oh shi—”

Spock had begun to move, a sudden withdraw followed by an immediate, forceful thrust. Over and over, he sank his length into Jim, each push deep and focused as Spock chanted breathlessly, “Nem'uh nash! Jim, nem'uh nash!! Oh, nem...nem'uh nash!”

                Jim was rapidly on the verge of coming, his cock grinding between the pillow and the mattress as he met Spock move for move. “God yes, give it to me! I’m gonna—haaah!” Jim writhed beneath the suddenly still body above, “No, don’t stop! Don’t—what the…”

                Spock was rocking his hips gently again, his penis buried deep, throbbing and…getting bigger? “You must relax now, Jim,” Spock panted against his ear. “Feel me…feel it…”

                Feel it, he did. Spock was expanding inside him, his penis stretching Jim wider by the second, setting his insides on fire. It was pain and heat, pleasure and madness. He wanted…he wanted it more…to be spread open as far as he could stand. “God yes…yes…” The pressure against his swollen prostate was an unbearable ecstasy.

                With a grunt, Spock hefted them both upright, never parting their bodies as the Vulcan sat back on his knees and held Jim against his chest. Jim looked down at his rosy cock, leaking and painfully hard, as Spock continued to grow inside him. He reached his arms back to wrap them around the Vulcan’s neck as Spock’s hands traversed his body; one eased down to grasp his aching member while the other slid reverently to Jim’s face.

                “Yes,” he answered immediately, already knowing the unspoken question. “Do it… _do it Spock…_ ”

                It was instantaneous and overwhelming. A second consciousness swept into Jim’s own, the sensation of two bodies, molding together, writhing and wet, scorched his blood and sent him over. He felt his testicles tighten and his shaft pulse as he came with a cry that echoed between two minds. Spock’s hand stroked him through orgasm until finally he became aware once more of the intrusion still pulsing within him. Languidly, Jim’s head lolled back against the Vulcan’s shoulder, and he was content to let Spock fill him to overflowing. Their combined consciousness’ mingled and hummed as they slowly fell apart.

                Too soon, their minds parted and Spock’s hand left Jim’s face to help ease them both down onto the mattress. Jim stared at the face across from him with something like awe blooming within his chest. He’d known this this side of Spock existed, had caught hints of it in the quieter moments of their friendship; but the depth of it he could have never realized before now. Jim nodded his head in invitation and Spock answered immediately with a kiss.

                They allowed their bodies to rest in a tangle of limbs, the air between them peaceful and content. Jim felt himself drifting off when a sudden movement against his side jerked him back into half awareness. “Wha…”

                “Jim?” Spock nudged the human in his side, and held up a book. It took a moment for Jim to recognize it. “Is this what you have been using to learn Vulcan?” Spock asked, incredulous.

                “Mmmm,” Jim nodded sleepily. “S’one Bones gave me for my birthday. S’outta print. Rare.”

                “Indeed, I do not doubt that it is,” Spock replied, his smirk obvious though Jim could hardly see it through his drooping eyelids. “This particular manual was only produced for a total of three standard months after it failed to pass the Vulcan standard.”

                That perked him up. Jim eyed the manual in Spock’s hand accusingly. “What? Why didn’t it pass?”

                “Golic, as you know, Jim, is a complicated language. The producers of this particular manual made several errors in phrase construction theory as it relates to common and formal verbs and nouns.”

                “Oh no,” Jim gaped. He then demanded for the second time that evening, “What the _hell_ have I been saying to you?!”

                Spock smiled his signature half-smile and tossed the manual over the edge of the bed. “It matters not. I believe it has achieved the desired results.”  

                “Like hell it doesn’t matter!” Jim sputtered, “I’ve been trying for months to approach you, and God knows what I’ve actually been saying—”

                “It _was_ quite illogical at times,” Spock conceded. “You mentioned that there were eels in a hovercraft and a desire for me to drop my pants before lunchtime—”

                Jim plopped back onto the bed, “No, never mind, you’re right. I don’t want to know.”

                “Indeed.” Spock smiled, then added, “If you truly wish to learn the language, Jim, I would be willing to teach you.”

                “Actually,” Jim answered, turning to give the Vulcan an assessing gaze. “What I’d like to know is where _you_ learned to…well…all _this_.”

                “You are not the only one who has been studying,” Spock informed. “After having previously confided to her my interest in you as a prospective life partner, my mother gifted to me the forty-seventh volume of the Terran Kama Sutra. I have spent several months meditating upon its various depicted techniques and mentally applying each one to our respective physical characteristics in terms height, weight and overall fitness level. I then chose to focus on the techniques which were best suited to those attributes. Being that I am taller, it was only logical that for our first time, in order to facilitate a more efficient joining, that I undertake the role of the ‘top,’ or the more dominant partner—”

                “Stop! _Stop!_ ” Jim cried when it seemed Spock intended to prattle on for the rest of the evening. “Enough said. Just…” He looked at Spock’s bewildered expression and grinned. “Was there anything in that book of yours on cud—uh, post-coital embracing?”

                “Indeed, Jim,” Spock replied. “Istau tu, kilko-tor nash-veh.”

 

 

Vulcan phrases and their translations in order of the appearance in the story:

  1. Nam-tor abertau-hali bai-sov-ne’hish-an’kar t’nash-veh aluklar-bosh oluhk-kahk: My hovercraft is full of eels (roughly). Literally: It is the lift-vehicle by air-pressure-cushion of mine full of snakelike fish.
  2. Ne’uh ne’malanu t’du, Osu Spohkh. Ri kup-beck-tor nash-veh abi’khi-gad-yem!: Drop your pants, Mister Spock. I cannot wait till lunchtime.
  3. Sanu estuhl’uh pla’kruslar t’nash-veh: Please fondle (touch) my buttocks.
  4. i'nam-tor wak na'guv-tvi-rivak: literally "now it is time for sexual intercourse."
  5. Nem'uh nash!: Take it/this
  6. Istau tu, kilko-tor nash-veh.: You wish, I answer.



               

     

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to Larissa for picking through the Vulcan phrases I attempted to construct on my own, LOL! :) Your corrections have been applied!
> 
> XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
> 
> I also write original m/m erotica fiction, if you're interested. You can find it [here](http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/index.php?cPath=55_1117)


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